Dream
by Flybie99
Summary: Norway finds himself struggling to stay alive in a world that combines dreams with reality.
1. Chapter 1

_There was blood on the rock._

_Norway stumbled back, one hand outstretched, lightning crackling at the tips of his fingers. He could hear his own ragged breathing; feel the sweat making his shirt stick to his back._

_'Denmark?' he shouted. His voice was ragged and terrified, ripped with fear. 'Iceland?'_

_Something lurched out of the shadows to his right, and Norway spun around, the lightning flaring more brightly in his hand. 'Who's there?' he cried._

_The thing stumbled closer, its feet dragging on the rock. A pitiful keening sound was coming from its mouth._

_'Norge...'_

_'Finland?' Norway heard himself gasp. He staggered forward and caught the small nation in his arms as Finland swayed on the spot._

_'You've got to help, Norge!' Finland moaned, clutching at Norway's shirt. 'Sweden... Please, help me!'_

_'Sweden?' Norway asked, staring desperately into the other's face. 'What about Sweden? Where is he?'_

_Finland's eyes were glazed with terror. 'Sweden...' he gasped. 'Over - over there...'_

_He pointed with one, trembling finger towards a large boulder that was hunched like a bull against the ground. Norway raised his hand and increased the power of the lightning that was still flashing his palm, and a figure was illuminated, sprawled at the base of the rock._

_Norway broke into a clumsy run and dropped to the ground beside the body. He felt his heart lurch into his throat as he recognised the long, navy coat that was now spattered with blood._

_'Sweden?' he choked out. 'Sweden, can you hear me?'_

_He seized the other's shoulder and rolled him onto his back._

_Sweden's glasses were cracked, the lenses misted with blood. His face was grey and mutilated; his eyes half-shut, but his chest still rose and fell ever so slightly, and every so often a rattling breath would escape his lips._

_'Oh, thank God,' Norway said, his voice hoarse with relief. 'Are you alright?'_

_'Fin,' Sweden croaked. 'Where...Fin?'_

_'I'm here,' Finland said, shuffling forward and taking Sweden's large hand in his small one. 'I'm here. I'm alright.'_

_Sweden gave a great, shuddering sigh. 'Good. Good.'_

_Then his chest stopped moving, and his hand hung limply in Finland's clutching hold._

_'S-Sweden?' Finland said, his voice cracking. 'Sweden?'_

_Sweden didn't move. His eyes behind the shattered glasses were blank and dead._

_'W-wake up, Sweden,' Finland said, shaking the other's arm. 'S-stop f-fooling around! Wake up!'_

_'Finland,' Norway said quietly, touching Finland's shoulder._

_'No!' Finland cried, pulling on Sweden's hand. 'Wake up, Sweden!'_

_'Come on, Fin,' Norway said, his own voice breaking. 'Come on. We've got to find the others.'_

_Finland opened his mouth and gave a howl of raw grief, tears streaming down his cheeks and spattering onto the floor, his fingers were still clutching at Sweden's cold, lifeless hand._

_Norway bent his head and gritted his teeth to force back a sob. Why did it have to be Sweden?_

_'C-come on,' he managed finally, taking Finland's elbow and gently pulling him to his feet. 'We can come back for Sweden. We'll make sure he gets a proper burial. But first we have to find the others.'_

_Finland screwed up his face, tears still pouring out over his eyelids._

_'Sweden wouldn't have wanted you to stay here,' Norway said softly. 'Sweden wouldn't have wanted anything to happen to the others.'_

_Finland took a deep breath - and nodded._

_'Let's go,' Norway said, taking Finland by the hand and leading him into the darkness._


	2. Chapter 2

_The shadows seemed to grow thicker still as they moved silently onwards. Rocks and boulders loomed suddenly out of the gloom, and occasionally they would catch sight of the glimmer of a lake just inches from their feet._

_Norway was exhausted. He could feel his feet dragging on the stone, and every breath caught in his throat - but he knew he couldn't stop. Sweden was dead, but there might still be a chance for Iceland and Denmark._

_'Norge...' Finland said nervously behind him._

_'What is it?'_

_Finland pointed. Norway turned to see a flickering glow in the distance, like that of a campfire. His heart leapt._

_'Come on!' he said, pulling Finland towards the light._

_As they drew nearer, Norway thought he could hear voices. Hope kindled in his chest and they sped up, almost running towards the dancing flame that burnt through the darkness._

_'Hello?' he called out as they drew closer._

_The voices cut off at once. There was the sound of metal clattering on metal, and a familiar voice called out, 'Who are you? Show yourself!'_

_'It's Norway,' Norway called back, desperately trying to remain on his feet, 'and Finland.'_

_A figure swelled out of the shadows, and Norway shrank back, shielding Finland from view._

_'Norway?' came a voice - a voice that Norway knew well. 'Are you alright?'_

_Norway couldn't muster the strength to answer. As his knees buckled, small hands caught him around the chest and he heard the voice say, 'Give me a hand, Denmark.'_

_Another pair of hands took him by the shoulders and he was lifted, bridal-style, into someone's arms._

_'Hey, Norge,' he heard Denmark's voice say. 'Nice of you to drop by.'_

_Norway opened his eyes to see Denmark's face swimming above him. There was a gash on his forehead, and a bruise was swelling on his jaw, but he grinned._

_'Got a bed made for you,' he said brightly, carrying Norway closer to the light of the fire. 'Actually, it's my bed, but your need is greater than mine.'_

_Norway sighed and shut his eyes again, listening to the crackling of the fire and the voices of Finland and Iceland._

_'I need to tell you something,' he murmured._

_'You can sleep first, can't you?' Denmark said, and Norway felt something soft under his head as he was set down._

_'It's important,' he managed through the haze of sleep. 'Please, Den... Iceland needs to know, too.'_

_'Alright,' Denmark said. 'I'll get him. Stay here.'_

_'I'm not going anywhere,' Norway slurred, dragging himself upright and rubbing his eyes as Denmark strode away to fetch Iceland. Looking around, he realised for the first time that they were in a camp of sorts. A fire was blazing in the centre, and there was a lean-to made of sticks and leaves propped against a nearby boulder. A few bags were lying near the fire, and Norway could see Denmark's axe glinting in the firelight._

_'Here we are,' Denmark said, returning with Iceland and Finland in tow. 'Now, what did you want to tell us, Norge?'_

_Norway took a deep breath, surprised by the sudden tears that burned his eyes. 'Sweden...' He gulped and tried again. 'Sweden's...d-dead.'_

_Denmark's eyes widened. Iceland pressed a fist to his mouth._

_'I don't know the story,' Norway continued. 'All I remember is fighting something, and then Finland appeared. He was in quite a state. He kept saying something about Sweden, and then he showed me the - the body.' He swallowed._

_'What did it?' Denmark said, and his voice was cold and furious. 'What killed him?'_

_'I don't know,' Norway replied helplessly. 'I just don't know.'_

_Denmark turned to Finland. 'Did you see?'_

_Finland looked up from where he had been staring at the ground. His face was shining with tears. 'I didn't see what did it,' he said in a choked voice. 'I just found him lying there, his sword snapped in two, b-b-blood e-everywhere.' He covered his face with his hands and his shoulders shook with grief._

_'That's all we know,' Norway finished._

_There was a silence that seemed to stretch on forever._

_'Then I'm glad,' Denmark said finally, his voice trembling with anger, 'that I managed to find Iceland in time before - before whatever it was - got him.'_

_His fists clenched._

_'I found him standing in the middle of nowhere with his knife out, staring into the darkness. I don't know what he saw, and Ice can't remember.'_

_Iceland shook his head, his fist still over his mouth._

_'I just remember feeling - feeling the most scared I've ever been in my life,' he said through his fingers._

_Norway reached out and touched his arm. 'I felt that too, little bro. I think we all did.'_

_Finland and Denmark nodded. There was another silence, broken only by the crackle of the flames._

_'Right,' Denmark said abruptly, 'time for sleep. I'll take first watch; Iceland takes second. You,' - he pointed at Norway and Finland - 'need your sleep.'_

_'No!' said Norway and Finland together._

_'I'll do a watch; I'm fine!' said Norway, stifling a yawn behind his hand._

_'Shut up,' Denmark said. 'You're sleeping and that's that. Same for you, Finland.'_

_Norway couldn't muster the energy necessary to argue the case. Stretching out on the cold ground, he pulled a blanket over his body and felt himself slip, almost immediately, into darkness._


	3. Chapter 3

'Norge?'

Norway awoke with a start. The first thing he noticed was that he was warm and comfortable, and that his face was pleasantly hot.

'Fin told me to wake you,' said a voice.

An impossible voice.

Norway sat up quickly and turned towards the door, barely registering the fact that he was lying in a bed in the middle of a bright room with sunlight streaming through the window.

There was someone standing in the doorway: someone tall, broad and bespectacled with blonde hair and piercing blue eyes.

'Sweden?' Norway gasped.

'Hm,' Sweden grunted. 'Fin sent me. Breakfast.'

Norway could hardly breathe. His chest felt constricted, and he could only watch as Sweden turned and stumped back down the stairs, his glasses flashing in the light.

The last time I saw those glasses, they were cracked and bloodstained.

Norway sat there for a few minutes, trying to take it all in.

A dream.

It had just been a dream.

None of that had happened. Sweden was alive. There was no creature lurking in the shadows, waiting to strike.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Norway stood up and began to get dressed. As he buttoned up his shirt and threaded a tie through the collar, he couldn't help but imagine them filthy and splattered with blood.

He shivered, and pulled a sweater over his head.

It had been such a vivid dream.

When he arrived in the kitchen, it was to find Iceland, Sweden and Denmark all seated at the table. Sweden was alternating between reading the paper and drinking coffee, whilst Denmark was trying unsuccessfully to engage Iceland in conversation.

'Hey, Norge!' Finland trilled, who was stirring a saucepan full of beans at the stove. 'You slept late!'

Norway sat down beside Iceland and tried not to let his gaze wander to the Swede opposite him - the living, breathing Swede rather than the bloodstained, dying one.

'D'you want beans?' Finland asked, stirring enthusiastically. 'I got the idea from England, actually. Apparently it's called a 'Full English Breakfast', and it's got sausages and bacon and beans and toast and eggs -'

'Sounds good, eh, Norge?' Denmark said, nudging Norway in the arm and grinning.

'Sounds like it's a heart attack on a plate,' said Norway flatly.

'Ah, come on, you've got to try it!' Finland said brightly.

'I'm not that hungry.'

'Please, Norway-San?'

Norway looked up into the Finn's hopeful, innocent face and sighed. 'Fine.'

Finland beamed. 'Great! So that's breakfast for...four, I think!'

Norway glanced around the table. 'There's five of us, isn't there?'

'Sweden's not having any,' Finland said, frowning at the Swede.

'Not hungry,' Sweden said monosyllabically.

'That's what I said, and you still made me have it,' Norway said, looking at the Finn.

'Yeah, well, Sweden's a _special case_,' whispered Denmark, nudging him again.

Finland appeared not to have heard this last comment. Still stirring energetically, he opened the oven door with his foot and, slipping an oven glove onto his free hand, brought out a tray of potato waffles.

'Waffles!' Denmark cried. 'You're a saint, Fin!'

Norway smiled slightly as he looked around at them all: at the cheering Denmark; the smiling Finland; the bored-looking Iceland and the deadpan Sweden.

How nice it was to see them all healthy; all alive.

'Ready!' sang Finland, loading up four plates and sliding them onto the table.

For a few moments there was silence as they all (excluding Sweden) tucked into the food. It was surprisingly good, thought Norway as he cut his sausage into perfectly even pieces and ate them one by one. England had a few tricks up his sleeve - along with black magic.

'I'm going out later,' Denmark announced through a mouthful of waffle. 'I'll be back the day after tomorrow.'

'Ooh! Where?' asked Finland eagerly, dropping his knife and fork and bouncing up and down in his chair.

'Greenland,' Denmark said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. 'Got to talk politics with him. Boring stuff. Still,' he added more brightly, 'me and Prussia are going out for a drink after, so that should be good.'

'I'm not carrying you home when you get stone drunk,' said Iceland, glaring at the Dane. Denmark appeared not to notice this and continued to stuff his face now he had finished speaking.

'Me and Sweden are going out in a bit, too,' said Finland, still bouncing. 'Hanatamago needs a walk. Fancy joining us, Norway? Iceland?'

'No, thanks,' said Iceland, playing with a piece of bacon. 'I need to train Puffin not to squawk in the middle of the night. He keeps waking me up, stupid bird.'

'I think I'll stay, too,' Norway said. 'It's Magic Club at twelve.'

'Ooh!' Finland said again. 'What are you doing this week?'

'Dark Summonings, Temporary Vanishment and Transfiguration: Level 6,' Norway recited expressionlessly.

Finland made a tiny 'Wow,' sound and sat gazing at Norway for a few seconds before turning, smiling, to Sweden.

'We ought to go out now, if you're ready.'

Sweden grunted and stood up, pushing his chair back from the table. Together, he and Finland disappeared into the hall to put on their shoes and coats.

'You alright, Norge?'

Norway looked around quickly to see Denmark looking at him with a slight frown on his face.

'Fine,' he said. 'I...just had a bad dream.'

'Oh,' said Denmark, his face clearing. 'Well, at least it was only a dream. Dreams can't hurt you, right?'

Norway nodded, turning to watch as Sweden bent down to zip up Finland's jacket.

Surely Denmark was right. Dreams couldn't hurt him.

But as he climbed into bed that night and felt sleep smother him, he wasn't so sure.


	4. Chapter 4

_As soon as he awoke, Norway knew something was wrong._

_He was no longer lying on a soft, downy mattress, but hard ground. His neck was twisted uncomfortably, and the air was sharp and cold, like that very far underground._

_Norway opened his eyes, and the darkness crashed into him like a wave._

_'Glad to see you awake, Norge.'_

_Denmark was splashing water on the smouldering remains of the fire, his black coat wrapped tightly around himself, his axe leaning against a rock a few feet away._

_Norway sat up and looked around. Denmark had lit a lamp which cast a flickering glow a few metres across the hard, bare ground, but beyond that, they could see nothing at all. The shadows seemed to heave and ripple as Norway strained to see deeper into them, and he looked away quickly._

_'I don't understand,' he said, and his voice was slightly higher than normal. 'W-where am I?'_

_Denmark looked at him oddly._

_'We don't know that, remember? We're trying to get out.'_

_'But I was home,' Norway said, fighting to stay calm. 'I fell asleep and when I woke up, I was back home, and Sweden was alive. This is a dream. This has to be a dream!'_

_He buried his face in his hands, panting for breath. Horror and fear was coiling inside his chest, almost suffocating him._

_'Norge?' he heard Denmark say uncertainly. 'You OK?'_

_Norway didn't reply. He was trying to digest the awful truth: that what he had thought was a dream was very, very real._

_'We're - we're setting off soon,' said Denmark in the same uncertain tone. 'We're going to find a way out of here.'_

_Norway raised his head. He had to keep it together, or they would never escape._

_'Alright,' he said quietly. 'Alright.'_

_There was a rustling from the base of a rock where Finland had chosen to sleep, and a pale face appeared from beneath a tattered blanket._

_'It's so dark,' were his first words as he sat up, stretching, and began to roll up the blanket._

_Norway suddenly realised that his stomach was snarling. 'Is there any breakfast?' he asked, starting to pack up his own blanket._

_'We've got some bread,' Denmark informed him, opening his bag and taking out half a loaf of bread off which he tore a hunk and threw to Norway. He then threw another to a Finland, and some for himself._

_'We can eat whilst we're walking,' he said, picking up a bag and slinging it over his shoulder. 'Right. Everyone ready?'_

_'Wait a moment,' Norway said suddenly, looking around. 'Where's Iceland?'_

_There was a heart-stopping silence._

_'I haven't seen him since last night,' said Denmark after a moment, fear etched across his face._

_'Me neither,' said Finland, his eyes wide and terrified._

_Norway dashed across the circle of light and peered into the shadows, lightning flaring into his hands as he searched the nearby rocks and boulders desperately for any sign of his brother._

_'Ice?' he called, his voice cracking. 'Iceland?'_

_'If we set off now,' said Denmark, 'we might find him. Don't worry, Norway. He'll be fine.'_

_But he didn't sound so sure._

_Norway tried to swallow the horror that was rising in his throat like bile as they packed up their things and prepared to leave the camp. He could see Finland and Denmark casting him worried glances, but he ignored them. The only thing that mattered now was finding Iceland._

_He just hoped he wasn't too late._

**Sorry that was so short! I've been doing loads of story in a very short space of time because I'm really into it, but that'll probably slow down. I hope you're enjoying it, anyhow - it's certainly great fun to write! :D**


	5. Chapter 5

**It's a bit gory, this chapter... Oh, well, I'm sure you don't mind! :3**

_They walked in silence for what felt like hours._

_The ground was strewn with rocks which caught their feet, sending them staggering, and from far, far above they could hear the steady drip, drip of water._

_Norway felt the same as he had so many times over the past few days: exhausted, frightened and confused. He kept calling Iceland's name, praying that he would hear a voice in reply, but it was all in vain. The only sound was that of their own footsteps and of water dripping onto rock._

_Several minutes after the echoes of Norway's last call had faded away, Denmark came to an abrupt halt. Norway, who had been walking behind, crashed into him._

_'Oh, God.'_

_Norway looked up - and felt an iron fist close tightly around his heart._

_There was a small body spread eagled on the hard ground. Blood was pooling on the floor beneath it, and more was smeared on nearby rocks._

_There was no mistaking the brown jacket._

_'Ice?' Norway cried, fighting the urge to throw up. 'Iceland?!'_

_He lurched forwards, hands outstretched, choking for breath. Dropping to his knees beside his brother, Norway pressed two shaking fingers against Iceland's white neck and searched for a pulse._

_Nothing._

_'No!' Norway screamed. 'You can't be dead! _You can't be dead_!'_

_Iceland didn't move. One of his arms was bent backwards, and Norway could see shards of bone glinting in the mess of blood and torn muscle._

_Denmark took a step forwards, one hand reaching towards the trembling nation. 'Norway...'_

_Norway gagged and dragged himself away from Iceland's mutilated corpse, groping at the ground. He could see Finland's frightened face staring at him, wide-eyed, from behind Denmark._

_'We've - we've got to go, Norge,' Denmark said tentatively._

_Norway suddenly remembered his own words spoken to Finland after finding Sweden's body: _'He wouldn't have wanted you to stay here. Come on.'

_Norway raised his head. He could feel hot tears streaming down his face._

_'I know,' he said._

_Lurching onto his hands and knees, he crawled slowly back to his brother's body and pressed his lips against Iceland's cold hand. He could taste the salty sweetness of blood lingering in his mouth as he drew back._

_'Come on, Norge,' Denmark said. 'I won't let the rest of us die. We'll fight whatever sadistic bastard did this, and we'll kill them. We'll avenge Iceland and Sweden - just you wait and see.'_

_He extended a hand, and Norway took it._

_'We ought to tie ourselves together,' Finland said in a small voice, 'so none of us get taken.'_

_'Good thinking,' said Denmark. 'Got any rope, anyone?'_

_'I was hoping you'd have some,' Finland said sheepishly._

_'What about you, Norge?'_

_'Me neither,' Norway replied, wiping his face with his shirt._

_Denmark looked crestfallen. 'Damn. I thought we were onto something.'_

_'We could use our belts,' Norway suggested._

_'That might work!' Denmark said, pulling up his coat and unthreading his belt. 'Have you got one, Fin?'_

_Finland pulled out his own belt and held it up. 'The only problem now is our trousers falling down,' he said, smiling slightly._

_The belts were too short to tie around their waists, so they were forced to knot them around their wrists. Finland, who was in the middle, had two tied around each arm._

_Finally, after heaving their bags back onto their backs with difficulty, Denmark lit the lamp and they strode out into the darkness once more._

_The discovery that Iceland was dead had lifted a weight from Norway's shoulders. He felt terrible even thinking it, but he didn't have to worry about Iceland any more; at any rate, wherever Iceland was had to be better than this crepuscular hellhole._

_But still there was Denmark and Finland to worry about. He wasn't so concerned about Denmark - he was sure that Denmark would be able to fight the thing off with his axe long enough to be able to escape - but Finland was small and weak. He didn't know how long the Finn would last against a beast that could take down someone as strong as Sweden._

_He had just looked up to check on Finland when he saw the eyes._

_They were white, bulbous, like the eyes of a creature that has lived in darkness all its life. They were pupil-less, larger than a dinner plate, and coated in a thin, cloudy film. The only reason he saw them was that the light of the lamp had caught them in its flickering glow, making them stand out against the blackness._

_He stopped, and Denmark and Finland were jerked back. When they looked back questioningly at him, he pointed in the direction of the eyes - but they had gone; melted into the shadows like a cat in the night._

_Norway couldn't help wondering how long they had been watching._


	6. Chapter 6

**This is just a warning: this chapter is pretty gory. Gorier than last time by quite a long way, so if you don't like guts...back away slowly. Enjoy! :D**

_The creature watched._

_It watched as the three people tied themselves together. It watched as they set off into the gloom. It watched as they noticed it and turned to stare._

_How interesting._

_The creature retreated into the shadows, but continued to watch as one of the people - the one with the blank, flickering eyes - began gesticulating angrily with the other two._

_They hadn't seen it. It was exactly how the creature had planned._

_Feed The One With the Flickering Eyes the madness, and the madness will feed off them._

_It knew, of course, that these people weren't human. Obviously not. No human could withstand the amount of pain it put them through. The Tall One - the one with the glasses who had first noticed it - had put up an impressive struggle, until the creature had spilled his guts across the ground._

_The One With the Silver Hair had been less of a challenge. One swipe, and the creature had split open his stomach. Another, and his arm had been shattered._

_An easy kill._

_No fun at all._

_The creature watched as the party stopped beside a boulder and laid down their bags. It watched as they removed the belts that tied them together; watched as The Loud One lit a fire from tinder he produced from his bag; as The Small One began preparing food and splitting it into equal portions. The One With the Flickering Eyes sat alone, staring at something he was holding in his hands._

_The creature moved closer, and the firelight caught the sheen of the object._

_It was a thick, white ribbon._

_Hadn't it seen that ribbon before?_

_The creature had a sudden, hazy memory of that same ribbon, smeared with blood and the stench of fear, tied in a neat bow around the neck of..._

_...who?_

_The One With the Flickering Eyes dropped his head into his hands, clutching the ribbon tightly to his heart._

_Ah. Yes. That was it._

_The One With the Silver Hair had worn that ribbon when the creature was killing him._

_How touching._

_The Small One stood up and moved a little way away from the fire, picking up small stones from the ground._

_This was the best chance it was going to get._

_The creature rose from the ground and moved silently towards The Small One. Stones scraped against its belly as it slid closer. It could almost taste the fresh blood already._

_The Small One stepped out of the firelight, and the creature struck._

_In an instant, it had seized the small one by the throat and dragged him away from the fire. In an instant, it had ripped open his stomach and spilt his insides across the cold rock. The Small One gasped and choked, but the creature knew he still had enough breath in him to shout for help._

_Well, it had no choice._

_The creature slid both hands into The Small One's mouth, pressing against the roof of his mouth with one hand and the bottom of his mouth with the other, and wrenched them apart. The Small One's jaw cracked and splintered, and blood sprayed across the creature's flesh. It pulled harder, and the head split in two. Brains and blood burst from the ruined skull, and The Small One stopped moved entirely._

_For a few moments, the creature gorged itself on The Small One's insides. Then, raising its head, it watched as The Loud One and The One With the Flickering Eyes shouted and searched for The Small One. It could hear the panic in their voices; smell the fear on their breath._

_The creature retreated further back into the shadows. Its bulbous eyes watched as the remaining two lay down to sleep after over an hour of searching._

_Perhaps it would put the corpse a little nearer the fire. That could be fun._

_The creature watched as The One With the Flickering Eyes fell into a deep sleep, and it waited._


	7. Chapter 7

Norway awoke to the sound of birds singing.

_It's not real_, he told himself, keeping his eyes screwed tight shut. _It's a dream. My home is a dream. The darkness - that creature - is the only reality._

He sat up. His bedroom was bathed in sunlight, just as it had been the last time he had awoken here.

He couldn't understand what was happening.

'If I fall asleep in the darkness,' he muttered aloud, running his fingers through his hair, 'I wake up in the light. If I fall asleep in the light, I wake up in the darkness.'

'First sign of madness,' came a voice from the doorway.

Iceland was leaning on the doorframe, the ribbon around his neck completely devoid of bloodstains, his face as cynical as ever.

Norway felt his stomach lurch uncomfortably.

'Ice,' he managed, reaching out to the nation. 'Come over here, little bro.'

Iceland made a face. 'No thanks.'

'Please, Ice.'

Something of his desperation must have shown in Norway's face, because Iceland sighed and moved over to sit on the bed. Norway immediately grabbed him around the waist and pulled him backwards so he was lying beside him.

'Hey!'

Iceland fought in vain for a few seconds, but Norway kept a tight hold around his brother.

'Stay still,' he commanded, stroking Iceland's hair with one hand and plumping up his pillows with the other.

'What's up with you?' Iceland asked irritably as Norway pushed his fringe out of his eyes. 'You're not usually like this.'

Norway stopped stroking for the briefest moment. 'Bad dream.'

The lie came easily. He knew that the others would worry if he told them his true suspicions.

Iceland glanced up at him. 'Another one?'

'The same,' Norway said.

Iceland fell silent. Then he asked: 'What happened in the dream?'

Norway looked away towards the window. After a second he said, 'We were being hunted by a creature in the dark.'

'A creature? What sort of creature?'

'A creature with white eyes that watched you in the darkness,' Norway said. 'A creature that ripped apart humans like playthings.'

'Monsters can't hurt nations,' Iceland scoffed.

'This one can,' Norway said quietly, resuming the stroking of his brother's hair.

Iceland didn't speak for several minutes. He seemed to be lost in thought.

'Tell me what really happened, Norway,' he said suddenly.

Norway frowned. 'What?'

'I know that's not it. I can tell you're hiding something,' Iceland said.

Norway stared at the light reflecting off his brother's hair.

'The creature,' he said eventually, 'killed three of our number. You were among them.'

Iceland lay still against Norway's chest. Norway could feel his heart beating, reassuringly strong, through the layer of clothes and flesh.

'I'm sorry, big bro,' Iceland murmured after a while. 'I'm sorry you dreamt that, but - like Denmark said yesterday - it was only a dream. Dreams can't hurt you.'

He stood up, looking down at Norway.

'If you want breakfast, you'd better come down.'

Norway lay in bed for a long time after he left. The clock on his wall ticked slowly on, the seconds bleeding away like the dawn from the sky as Norway remained lying there, completely still, breathing in the scent of home that he knew so well.

Long after Iceland had left for the kitchen, Norway sat up and got out of bed. The sun had risen fully now, and the smell of sausages was floating up the stairs.

Norway wasn't hungry, though. Walking over to the window, he threw it open and breathed in the scent of grass and flowers that was drifting into the room. The sound of birdsong was louder now, and he could just see the sea, as smooth as glass, glimmering in the distance.

It was so normal.

No-one could ever suspect that Norway was living a nightmare.

Rubbing his eyes, Norway began to dress in his usual garments. He barely noticed that the smell of sausages had faded somewhat, and that the usual clatter of the Nordics eating breakfast had been replaced by a steady drip, drip like a leaking tap.

By the time Norway had finished dressing, the dripping sound had become more persistent. Sighing, Norway stood up and began to walk downstairs, still buttoning up his shirt.

He only noticed the lack of noise from the kitchen when he reached the hall.

On a usual day, Finland would be chattering to Sweden about what they were going to do. Sweden would be grunting the occasional reply, whilst Iceland and Denmark would be arguing about one thing or another.

Today, however, the only sound was that drip, drip, drip. Now that he was closer, it sounded much too thick to be a leaking tap.

Norway opened the door to the kitchen and stepped inside.

And screamed.

**Ooh, it's getting pretty tense now, isn't it? If you're liking the story, or even if you just want to see where it ends up, drop a review and I'll love you forever. I'll even give you a virtual scone, and if that doesn't tempt you, I don't know what will. I love getting reviews; it makes me happy to know that someone, somewhere is enjoying my writing.**

**Have a fabulous day! :3**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey there! I've got an extra long chapter for you today. I thought about splitting it into two chapters, but it's probably better like this. I hope it's not too gory so far... Mwahahahahaha! **

The kitchen was drenched with blood.

It coated the walls; the floor, dripping off the edge of the table to pool on the tiles: thick; red; glutinous.

The bodies of Iceland, Finland, Denmark and Sweden were strewn amongst the wreckage, their faces crimson with blood, their eyes glassy and dead.

Norway staggered backwards and vomited over the table in the hall.

This couldn't be happening.

Blackness swirled before Norway's eyes as he lurched towards the front door, panting, feeling sweat pour down his face. Groping for the door handle, he pushed with his shoulder and stumbled down the front steps.

When he reached the road, he couldn't go any further. His legs buckled and he collapsed, his head smacking against the concrete. The world swirled and blurred before his eyes and he retched again, clawing at the ground in a futile attempt to stand.

_Get up, you stupid bastard_, said a voice in his head. _You're lying in the middle of the road. You're going to be roadkill if you don't get a move on._

'Help,' Norway croaked, though he knew there was no one around for miles. 'Please help. Someone...please...'

His ears were filled with a meaningless roaring that was growing steadily louder. He could feel blood and sweat on his palms, mingling with the gravel on the road.

_Get up!_ the voice shouted. _Get up, you piece of shit!_

But Norway couldn't move. He kept seeing the bodies of his friends - his family - lying, twisted and broken, amongst the debris: Finland, still slumped against the stove where he had been cooking breakfast; Iceland, bent backwards over a chair with his intestines trailing across the floor; Denmark, his head twisted round so far his skin split; Sweden, lying on top of Finland, his sword hanging limply on his hand from where he had tried to protect the Finn.

'Hey! Get out of the road!'

Norway couldn't find the strength to look up. For all he knew, this could just be a hallucination. It wouldn't surprise him.

'Geez, are you alright?'

Norway heard the crunch of gravel, and then someone had taken his shoulders and was rolling him onto his back.

'Hey - it's Norway, isn't it? What're you doing in the middle of the road?'

Norway forced his eyes open. Someone was leaning over him, looking concerned.

He recognised the red eyes instantly.

'Pr-Prussia,' he choked. 'They're all - d-d-dead... All d-dead...'

'Woah. Wait a minute. Who's dead?'

Prussia's crimson eyes slid from Norway's face and onto the blood on his hands. 'Oh, God. Give me a moment - I'll call West. Stay there.'

He stood up and moved back over to the car, pulling a phone from his pocket. Norway caught snatches of words as he lay there on the stone, trying not to pass out.

After a few minutes, Prussia returned and resumed his crouch beside Norway. 'West's on his way. If you need to sleep, go ahead.'

Norway felt a vague sense of gratitude, and let his eyelids flutter closed. He just remembered something soft being pushed under his head, before the blackness flooded his vision and he knew no more.

'He was just lying in the middle of the road. I only just notice him in time, to be honest. I called out, and he just lay there, so I walked over to him and rolled him onto his back. He looked like crap, to tell the truth. Blood all over his hands, and there was a nasty bruise on his head. And then he opened his eyes, and said, 'They're all dead. All dead'; something along those lines. I asked him who was dead, but he was practically out cold by this point. That was when I called you. He passed out soon after that.'

Norway's eyelids fluttered. He could smell - was it beer? - mixed with the faint scent of sausages.

'Hey, look - he's awake. He probably sensed my awesomeness and -'

'Shut up, Prussia.'

The second voice was much deeper than the first, but had the same German accent as Prussia. As he realised this, Norway heard footsteps moving closer to the bed and then the second voice spoke: 'Are you alright?'

Norway opened his eyes. A face swam into focus: Germany's. He sat up, glancing around himself.

He appeared to be in a room that was, to say the least, rather untidy. There were CDs and books strewn everywhere, and the walls were covered with posters and tacked-up pieces of paper, most depicting the Prussian eagle. A desk in the corner was hidden beneath a large computer and keyboard, several stacks of notebooks, numerous screwed-up sheets of paper and a CD player. The wardrobe seemed to be almost entirely empty, as most of the clothes were spread around the room in varying states of dirtiness. Hanging on the back of the door, however, was a clean, perfectly pressed blue uniform and - ominously - a fully-loaded rifle.

'Ah. You're awake.'

Germany pulled up the chair from Prussia's desk and sat down beside the bed.

'Would you mind telling us how you ended up lying in the middle of the road?' he asked, leaning forwards and frowning at Norway.

Norway took a deep breath, and began.

He told them all about the strange dreams: about how when he had fallen asleep in the darkness, he had awoken here, and vice versa. He told them about the creature, and how it had killed each of his friends in turn. Then he told them - with many pauses and swallows - about going downstairs to find the kitchen drenched with blood, and the bodies of his friends lying in the wreckage.

When he had finished, both Germany and Prussia stared back at him, identical expressions of shock on their faces.

'Thank you for recounting this for us,' Germany said eventually, standing up and moving towards the door. 'I know it must have been...difficult.'

Norway looked down at his hands.

'Don't bother him, Prussia,' Germany said sharply, glancing over at his brother. Prussia folded his arms irritably, leaning back against the desk.

'Why does everyone think that I'm going to be annoying whenever they leave the room?' he said, glaring at Germany. 'If anything happens, it's because they can't handle my awesomeness.'

Germany sighed and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

There was a moment's silence after he had gone, in which Prussia picked his nails absentmindedly and Norway stared fixedly at the giant eagle poster directly opposite from him.

'I know what it's like to lose friends,' Prussia said abruptly. He had looked up from his hands and was staring out of the window.

'Who...who was it?' Norway asked, his voice slightly hoarse.

'The whole of the Prussian empire,' Prussia said with the ghost of a smile. 'When I was dissolved, they all died, one by one. Near the end, they were dropping like flies. I very nearly fell with them.'

'Why did you survive?'

'West took me in,' Prussia said, smiling reminiscently. 'I was practically dead. Barely conscious for about three weeks. West had to feed me soup through a tube. I can't touch the stuff now.'

Norway glanced out of the window too. He could see a yellow bird perched on the window ledge, its bright, beady eyes glinting in the sun.

'He was awesome,' Prussia said, moving closer to the window. 'West, I mean. He brought me back to - well, not exactly full health, but close enough.'

Norway noticed for the first time the greyish pallor of his skin; the bags under his eyes.

'I could never return to what I was like before,' Prussia said, reaching out a finger to the bird. 'I was too powerful. C'mon, Gilbird.'

The yellow bird hopped onto his finger, and Prussia lifted it onto his head where it nestled in his hair.

'Yep,' he said, sighing loudly. 'That was a pretty bad time. I can empathise with your situation, as West would say.'

Norway couldn't think what to say himself. Once again, he felt that rush of gratitude towards the silver-haired Prussian.

He pointed at the rifle.

'Is that legal?' he asked, saying the first thing that came into his head.

Prussia flashed a sharp-toothed grin.

'Of course not.'

And he left the room, leaving Norway sitting alone, smiling for the first time in days.

He should have known it couldn't last.


	9. Author's Note

**Hello, my lovelies! This is just a note to say that I'll be posting chapters less frequently now, because the holidays are over and I have homework and boring stuff. I'm in the middle of a chapter right now, though, so hopefully I'll post that within the next few days. Also, I've been having a bit of trouble with Fanfiction (it keeps giving me error messages), so if I don't say anything for AGES, that might be why. **

**Have a nice day, friends! :3 **


	10. Chapter 9

**I'm back with another chapter! This one's slightly gory too, but never mind. I'm sure you can deal with it. I've changed the rating, too, so if anyone missed a chapter, I'm sorry. I just thought that someone getting their head split in too was a bit ****_too _****gory to be rated T.**

**This chapter's a bit short, but it was all I could manage at the moment. Enjoy! :D **

**P.S: Thanks for all the lovely reviews, peepoids. I love you (Not in ****_that_**** way. Just in a friendship way). You can all have virtual scones! :3**

It was exactly one minute and forty-three seconds later that he heard the scream.

It ripped through the silence of the house, thick with horror; fear; panic, like their very soul was being torn from their body.

Norway leapt from the bed, staring, wild-eyed, at the door. The person was still screaming, their voice wracked with pain and desperation.

Norway threw himself across the room, just pausing to seize the rifle from the back of the door and flick off the safety before he burst into the corridor. His feet thudded on the ground as he tore around a corner and flew down a flight of stairs, fear pumping through his veins like acid.

He had just reached the main staircase when he saw it.

Prussia was lying halfway down the stairs, one leg twisted beneath him, his chest and torso sliced so badly that it was unrecognisable as human flesh. His eyes were wide open and glassy, reflecting the dim glow of the lamp. A maid was standing at the bottom of the steps, the contents of a tea tray strew across the floor at her feet, her mouth open in a horrified scream.

Norway took a step forwards - and his foot slipped slightly in the blood that coated the floor.

He couldn't breathe.

Not Prussia.

Please, not Prussia.

'What is going on?'

Norway turned quickly. Germany was coming down the stairs, carrying a book under his arm.

Norway moved forwards, trying to hide the scene, to make sure Germany didn't see the corpse of his brother, but -

Germany's eyes fixed on the trail of blood on the stairs, and then on Prussia's mutilated body. Horror swelled in his eyes.

'Preußen?' he gasped out. '_Bruder_?'

He pushed past Norway without looking at him, his eyes still locked on the corpse, and staggered to where his brother lay. Dropping to his knees beside him, he seized his shoulder and shook him, staring frantically into Prussia's eyes as though hoping they would blink and turn to him; that he would grin and sit up, laughing his characteristic laugh.

But Prussia stayed as cold and silent as the stone walls around them.

'Preußen!' Germany screamed. 'Wach auf! Sie müssen aufwachen! Bitte! _Bitte_!'

Norway watched helplessly as Germany pressed his face into Prussia's bloodstained shirt, tears pouring down his face, a howl of grief ripping from his mouth.

But in his head, he was screaming too.

It wasn't just the Nordics that the creature killed: it was anyone he had a relationship with.

Germany was clutching at Prussia's limp hand, choking out disconnected sentences in German and seemingly unaware of the fact that his uniform was quickly becoming soaked with blood. 'Du dummkopf... auf wachen ... Sie kann nicht tot sein, Sie k-kann tot sein, wach auf, wach auf, wach auf!'

'Germany,' Norway croaked. 'Come on. You have to get away, or it'll kill you too.'

'Nein! Ich lasse ihn nicht!' Germany roared, cradling his brother's body close to his chest with shaking hands.  
'Komm, Deutschland,' Norway said slowly, wracking his brain for the few words he knew in German. 'Kommen Sie mit.' ('Come, Germany. Come with me.')

Germany's huge shoulders heaved. His breath was coming in ragged gasps, sounding like sandpaper on rock as he choked for breath. Norway moved closer, reaching out a hand to the larger nation as Germany held his brother close to his chest.

'Komm,' he repeated.

For a moment, Germany didn't move. Then, very slowly, he rose and took a step back from Prussia's body, his teeth gritted to stifle his sobs, his fists clenched at his sides.

'Gut. Gut. Komm, Deutschland,' Norway said encouragingly. His knowledge of German failing, he switched quickly back to English and said, 'Listen, Germany. You have to get away from here. Hide somewhere, as far away from me as you can. If you don't, you are going to die. Please, Germany.'

Germany clenched his teeth even tighter, the tears still pouring freely down his cheeks, and nodded.

Norway felt a wave of relief wash over him. At least Germany would survive, even if Prussia and the Nordics couldn't.

He knew now what he was going to have to do.

He had to protect the others. He couldn't let anyone else die.

And he was going to have to _run_.


	11. Chapter 10

**Hello, Narwhals! Ugh... I'm so sorry I haven't done a chapter in WEEKS, but I've had so much work to do, and I just haven't had the time. So sorry about that, but hopefully this chapter'll be pretty exciting. Enjoy... Mwahahahaha!**

Norway didn't think to pack anything. His heart was thumping against his ribs and a high, dull whining was filling his ears as he pulled on a coat and slung the rifle over his shoulder.

Prussia's body was gone. Only a smear of blood halfway down the stairs marked the fact that he had ever lain there at all: that and the blank, deadened expression on his brother's face.

Norway left without another word, leaving the stench of death and grief to fester behind him.

As soon as he stepped out of the door, he began to run.

The ground was slippery with mud and rain, and twice he fell, his hands sinking up to the wrists in the churned-up mess of earth and water. Tree branches whipped his face as he staggered past, shielding his eyes against a blinding light that hovered at the edge of his vision.

(_shining bright like the sun, like a star burning, dying, explosions and death and pain_)

Sounds boomed unnaturally loud; the mud on his hands seemed to thicken and turn red before his eyes. The Nordic pin that held back his fringe was gone, and his hair hung loose and matted around his face. Several times he thought he heard a snarl; a growl close by, but when he spun around, ripping the gun from his back, the path he had sliced through the tall grass was empty.

As he ran, he thought.

His brain whirled and spun like an over-wound clock, and disconnected thoughts fluttered around his head like caged birds - moving, moving, always moving.

(_like birds, birds, fluttering like birds, around and around and around forever and ever and ever_)

_I'm going insane_, a voice whispered. _I'm going insane. Please let it be a dream. Please let me wake up and find myself at home, with Sweden and Denmark and Finland and Iceland all around me, and a cup of karsk in my hand_.  
'Please,' he heard himself whimper. His voice sounded weak and pathetic: not the usual monotone he was used to.

(_most scared I've ever been, a thing of darkness and pain and white bulging eyes_)

A branch sliced across Norway's face and he felt hot blood trickle down his cheek. The voices in his head were getting louder; more persistent. A dull ache was growing steadily behind his eyes, and the white light at the corner of his eye was becoming brighter.

(_cracked and bloodstained, the lenses shattered, blue eyes staring sightlessly_)

'Stop!' Norway cried, forcing his legs to move faster, trying to escape from the cacophony of voices clamouring to be heard. 'Stop it!'

(_white ribbon drenched with blood, the ends frayed and ripped, stained with death and agony_)

'_Leave me alone_!' Norway screamed, tearing the branches away from his face and feeling lacerations mar the tender flesh of his hands.

(_the head split apart, the jaw splintered, eyes wide and staring and drowning in pain_)

Norway felt his lungs expel an inhuman shriek into the sharp air as he threw himself sideways, his eyes screwed tightly shut, his nails ripping his face so ragged gashes opened up his cheek and -

'Norway?'

Norway hit the ground and noticed instantly that it was not moss or grass, but concrete. He must have found a way out of the forest and come across a road.

(_death and grief and anger close behind, attacking any who come near, carving scars into history_)

'Get away!' Norway screamed, scrambling to his feet and stumbling backwards, the rifle shaking as he aimed it towards the voice.

'Whoa, hold on there, old boy. I'm not going to hurt you.'

His eyes focused on the small figure that was standing a few metres away, watching him closely. The thick eyebrows were enough to confirm his suspicions.

'Stay away from me, Britain!' he yelled, lurching drunkenly away.

The nation was observing him carefully, his hands held up. 'Calm down, Norway. I'm not going to hurt you,' he repeated, taking a step closer.

'You're going to die if you don't get away from me!' Norway screamed. 'You don't understand!'

(_killing everything in its wake, destroying and ripping and tearing apart flesh and bone and muscle_)

'Alright,' Britain said slowly, 'alright. I won't come any closer.'

(_spilling blood until the rivers and streams flow red, until the rain falls crimson_)

Norway turned and staggered back into the shelter of the trees.

He ran, trying to ignore the yell that rent the silence seconds later; the sounds of ripping flesh and the snapping of bone.

(_dead, just like the others, torn by pain before their lives were extinguished, drowning, drowning, drowning_)

Something was moving behind him. Norway bit back a sob as he crashed through the undergrowth, plants catching at his legs, the fabric of his trousers tearing as thorns snagged them, and -

(_soon you'll be dead, just like the others, torn by pain before your life is extinguished, drowning, drowning, drowning_)

- his back exploded with pain and he fell, feeling blood soak instantly through his shirt, thick and sticky and glutinous and -

(_never see the sunrise again, never see rain fall, never see beauty or happiness or joy_)

- his throat was torn apart, the windpipe wrenched from his neck, arteries severed so blood spurted onto the ground, making the moss glisten wetly and -

(_the last moments of pain and darkness and shadow, those white eyes staring as the life leaves your body and_ -)

- Norway died.

**Dun dun duuuuuun! Don't worry, that's not the end of the story - Norway will be back for more fun and games soon. I hope you liked it: if you did, drop a review and I will be most thankful! :D**


	12. Chapter 11

(_whisper, whisper_)

(_silence like the rainfall_)

'- Wake up -'

(_flicker, flutter, gentle hands_)

'- Norge -'

(_cold sweat, fevered brow_)

(_wake up, wake up, WAKE UP_)

'- wake up!'

Norway opened his eyes.

There was light falling onto his face, warming his skin. Vague shapes were moving around him, talking in low voices, though he could not hear the words. He could feel his shirt sticking to his back; feel sickness churning in his stomach.

'- must be fever -'

'- anything we can do?'

'- just needs sleep, sleep, that's all -'

Norway let his eyes roll back in his head, and blackness swirled around him once more.

When he next opened his eyes, the blurred shapes were gone. There was something touching his cheek: something cool and pleasant against his fevered face.

(_drowning, drowning, white eyes staring_)

(_life and love and pain and death_)

'No,' Norway moaned. 'Make them go away...'

There were people talking around him. The sickness roiled in his guts again, and he rolled onto his side, fighting down the impulse to vomit.

(_white hand white ribbon white face white eyes white white white_)

Black.


End file.
